What A Difference A Day Makes
by Amanda Hawthorn
Summary: Sara's convinced she'll have bad luck on halloween. Can Grissom change her mind? GS


TITLE: What A Difference A Day Makes

AUTHOR: Amanda Hawthorn 

RATING: PG-13

PAIRING: Grissom/Sara     

CATEGORY: GSR

ARCHIVE: Grissomandsara.com and my site 

SPOILERS: Loosely based on season 4

SUMMARY: Sara's convinced Halloween will only continue her run of bad luck. Can Grissom change her mind?

DISCLAIMER: CSI belongs to CBS and Alliance-Atlantis Productions. No  
infringement intended.  
AUTHORS' NOTES: This is a small offering of a Halloween fic by way of a thank you for all of your kind reviews.

Huge thanks go out to Marlou my beta reader and friend. Thanks hun you're a star!!! Also big thanks to Niff who chose the title and to everyone for their continued support. Thank you.

Wednesday, October 29th

"Crap.  Friday's the 31st," Sara muttered to herself.  It totally snuck up on her this year.  She stood in front of the schedule, twisting her lips in deep thought, scanning the other names on the page.  Warrick and Grissom were scheduled to work too. Catherine and Nick were off.  She figured Nick would be her best chance for a swap.

*-*-*-*

"Pleeeeease?"  Sara whined, hovering over him in the break room.  

"No way.  Date.  Ball at the Belagio," he sang.  He reclined back in his chair, wearing a proud grin.

"What?"

"You heard me.  I've been after this girl for two whole months. There is no way I'm backing out."  

"A ball?  There's no such thing, Nicky.  This isn't Cinderella."

"It's a costume ball.  And that's funny.  Cinderella."  He chuckled softly.

"You're making this up.  Come on, I really need Friday off.  Please?"  She looked almost panic stricken.  

"I'm not making it up!" he argued with a smile.  He sat up in his chair, staring at Sara curiously.  "Not that it matters—because I'm not trading with you, but why do you need the night off?"

All expression fell from Sara's face.  "Oh.  Um…I…uh" Her eyes wandered all over the room—anywhere but Nick's face.  Nick found her nervousness quite interesting and amusing.  

"Hot date?"  

Sara huffed a breath and rolled her eyes.  She shook her head and eyed the floor, sighing lightly.  Damn, now she had to go to Catherine.  "No, no date," she said miserably, heading out the door. 

*-*-*-*

"You are a lifesaver!"  Sara squealed, hugging Catherine in the hallway.

"Ugh…geez.  I hope he's worth it," Catherine replied, taken aback by Sara's show of affection.

"Who?" 

"The guy you're going out with on Friday."

Sara laughed, and a genuine smile spread across her face.  "No guy.  Just needed the night off."   Her relief was palpable.

*-*-*-*

Thursday Afternoon, October 30th

Sara was just finishing some toast when her cell phone rang.  

"Sidle."  

"I'm so sorry," Catherine began immediately.

"Why?"  Sara laughed.  That was an odd way to start a conversation.  

"Lindsey has mono."

"Mono?  That sucks.  She's going to be asleep for a week and, oh my God, you have to take off work don't you!"  Realization hit.  Crap.  

"I'm sorry sweetie.  I can't swap nights with you.  We just got back from the doctor.  The first two days are the worst. There's no way can leave her like this."

"Oh…I know, Cath.  It's okay," Sara said sadly.  "I understand."

"What have you got going on, anyway?"  

She never did tell Catherine why she wanted Halloween off.  "Oh, I…uh…it's a long story.  Not important."  

"You sure?"  

"Yeah…no big deal," she lied.

"Okay.  Well, hey, it could be worse—you could be in my shoes.  I have to wonder how my ten year old daughter got mono."

"I don't envy you," Sara offered compassionately.

Catherine babbled on some more about Lindsey's sudden interest in boys, but Sara wasn't listening.  She had to figure out a way to get tomorrow night off.

*-*-*-*

She decided the truth was her best option.  You can never go wrong by telling the truth.  Tonight she would just have to tell Grissom that she needed tomorrow night off.  He would ask why, and she would tell the truth and explain it to him.  Of course, the truth was utterly ridiculous, and he would likely laugh her right out of his office, but she still believed it was the only way to go.  

It took her most of the shift to work up the courage to talk to him.  It wasn't just simply the fact that she needed the night off either.  She just wasn't entirely comfortable dealing with Grissom at all lately.  He had been acting very strange lately the last month, and seemed to revert back to randomly flirting with her, stirring up the feelings she repeatedly tried to bury.  She never knew what to expect when he was around her.  She chalked it up to his 'mid life crisis', but she was still uncomfortable approaching him.

Though the door was open, she knocked lightly on it, causing him to look up from his paperwork.  

"You got a minute?"

"Yeah."  He looked down and scribbled his name a few more times while Sara slowly made her way toward his desk.  

"I need a favor."

Grissom looked up, but didn't say anything in response.

"I need tomorrow night off.  No one can trade with me, but I need the night off."

"There's only three of us on," he reminded.

"I know.  I really can't work."

"Why?"  His genuine concern was evident.

She knew he would ask why, but somehow the question still caught her off guard.  She just stared at him a few seconds before diving into her story.  She had originally thought the less information the better for Grissom, but then she realized he would need to hear a firm argument to believe her insane logic.  He would need to hear all of it.  

"Well…um…this is going to sound ridiculous, but I can't work Halloween."

"You've worked Halloween before," he said immediately.

"No, I haven't.  Not here in Vegas.  Grissom, I can't work Halloween," she repeated solemnly. 

"Why not?"

She swallowed hard and glanced at his desk, praying he wouldn't just laugh out loud at her.  "Because bad things always happen to me on Halloween."

After pursing his lips in confusion he asked, "What are you talking about?" 

Her heart began to pound in her chest.  She took a deep breath and let it rip.  "Okay.  When I was eleven, I was thrown from a horse during a riding lesson on Halloween.  I bruised my tailbone something fierce.  Couldn't sit for a week--"

"You took horseback riding lessons?" he interrupted, one corner of his mouth rising to smile.

She rolled her eyes.  'Oh my God.' Of all the times to flirt.  "Let me finish."

He raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue.  

"When I was thirteen, a friend of mine was hit by a car while we were trick-or-treating.  She survived, but it took her six months of recuperation to be able to walk again after the accident."  Sara figured it was best to just keep going, before he interrupted again.  

"At Harvard, I went to a costume party on Halloween, and there was a fire in the basement of the house.  Seven of us were injured—smoke inhalation and minor cuts and bruises, but the damage to the house was extensive."  She glanced at him a moment, surprised to find him still listening attentively.  He didn't even look like he was going to laugh.  

"Once in San Francisco, we had a DB wash up at the wharf on Halloween.  One of the planks gave way and my partner and I fell twenty-two feet into the Bay.  I broke my left arm on the rocks, and he…"  She took a deep breath before continuing.  "He hit his head and ended up in a coma for four days.  He's never been the same, Grissom.  I…I've never worked a Halloween since."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Are you serious?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," she answered emphatically.  Grissom started to smile.  Sara thought he was about to laugh, so she started talking again.  "And don't tell me how dumb I'm being because I know.  It's irrational and ridiculous, and I probably bring it all on myself because I get so freaked out.  I know!  It's just a day on the calendar, but I can't help it.   There have been too many instances.  I can't shake the bad feeling." 

A small wrinkle appeared on Grissom's forehead as he tried to comprehend the level of sheer paranoia that overwhelmed Sara.    

"I've never taken a vacation.  I can't remember the last time I called in sick.  I work more overtime than anyone.  Sign me up for Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's for all I care, but I don't want to work on Halloween.  Okay?"  

Grissom sat silent a moment, looking down at his desk.  He seemed to be considering her request.  Sara exhaled, a sense of relief approaching.  Surely he would give her the night off.    

"I can see that this was very difficult for you to talk to me about, and I appreciate the fact that you trusted me enough to be honest.  Having said that--" he paused, making eye contact with her.  "Too bad."

"What?"

"I need you to work.  Too bad."  He put his palms out questioningly and raised his shoulders slightly.  "Sorry?"  He was not familiar with the etiquette here.  His team rarely requested things he couldn't grant.  

"Are you kidding me?"

"No.  There's no way we can function with only two of us."  He could tell by her face she was really scared.  "You can work with me, unless we're totally slammed and I need you to go solo."

Sara shook her head at him in disbelief.    

Grissom raised his eyebrows playfully, trying to lighten the mood for her.  "Nothing bad has ever happened to me on Halloween—cancels out all your bad luck."  

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Sara, you'll be fine.  See you tomorrow."  He watched her shocked expression turn to a charming pout.  "7pm sharp," he added with a wink.  

*-*-*-*

Halloween.  October 31st, 7pm.

"Okay Sidle, you can do this," Sara muttered to herself as she climbed out of her car. "Nothing bad will happen. This is the end of my bad luck streak." Taking a deep breath she turned away from her Yukon and started walking towards the lab, her concentration fixed on the steps she was taking.

"Hey Sara," Greg called from behind her, bounding up to walk beside her with a huge grin on his face.

"Oh hey Greg," she nodded as she turned to offer him a smile. At exactly the same moment, her foot caught in a pothole and she found herself propelled forward into a muddy puddle that splattered dark brown droplets all over her white shirt.

"Jeeze Sara," Greg gasped, stooping low to pull her to her feet, "are you alright?"

"Damn bloody day," she muttered miserably, her hands trying to push away the muck only to make the stain worse. "Hell."

Beside her, Greg was trying desperately to hide the small chuckle that had started to rumble inside his throat. Only when she flashed him an angry glare did he hold a hand to his mouth and fake a cough. "Not your night huh?"

"No," she muttered. Taking one last look down at her clothes, she started to walk again, this time vowing to ignore anyone who might cause a distraction. It was a good thing she had a spare shirt in her locker. Maybe she could survive tonight if she stayed away from anything that caused her any trouble.

Grissom looked up as she trudged past his office. "Sara," he called.

Stopping in her tracks she turned towards him, fixing him with her 'I don't want to be here' stare.

He took a moment to let his eyes roam over her clothes. The dark stain cast an unsightly mess on her otherwise perfect attire. Bringing his eyes back up to her face, he found himself melting in her gaze. "What happened?" he asked.

"Halloween," she groaned, turning away from him. She could go and change, then everything would be fine. No bad luck, she mused, not tonight.

Reaching the locker room, Sara stomped purposely up to her locker and pulled open the door. For a second she just stood there staring inside the metal container trying to steer her brain into some kind of response to what her eyes were not seeing. As if on cue, she started to search frantically inside the shelves to find the shirt she could have sworn was inside. "Oh God no," she moaned miserably when realization dawned on her. She remembered now, she'd taken the spare set of clothes home to change them for a warmer ensemble. "This is not happening," she groaned, "This is all a dream and I'm not really here." Scrunching her eyes closed, she wished with everything she had that she would wake up any second and still be in her snug bed, but when she opened them again, the situation remained very much the same.

With a heavy sigh, she slumped down on the bench and put her head in her hands. This was going to be the same disastrous day as it always had. She was doomed.

Grissom looked down at his watch when Sara hadn't returned after a few minutes. Curiosity overcame him and he decided to go in search of her. Only one case had come in tonight, an apparent suicide. He needed to reassure her that no bad luck would befall her tonight.

When he found her in the locker room, he smiled to himself as he slowly entered into the room. "Hey, I've been looking for you."

Without lifting her head from her hands, Sara moaned in misery, "Well, now you've found me."

"What's wrong?" he asked, coming over to sit beside her on the bench. When she didn't answer, her reached out a tentative hand to touch her shoulder.

For a second she stiffened with his touch, but started to relax when his warmth flooded through to her skin. Sitting up slowly, she turned to face him, berating herself for feeling so humiliated. "Look at me," she pouted.

Her question suddenly filled Grissom with heart stopping attraction and he had to fight his hands from reaching for her. Looking over her with what he hoped weren't smoldering eyes; they came to rest on the brown smudge that had started to dry into her white top. "I thought you were going to change."

"I was," she wailed, throwing her hands in the air with frustration. "I forgot I took my spare clothes home, and now I have to walk around like this."

Grissom's mouth started to twitch up in a smile when he saw the pout once more forming on her lips. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I did just tell you," she moaned, closing her eyes in defeat. "I told you, this is the worst day of the year for me, and now I'm cursed forever."

With a small chuckle, Grissom shifted to stand up from the bench and moved over to his locker. Opening the door, he rummaged in his bag and pulled out a light blue shirt. "Here, you can borrow this."

Sara's head snapped up and for a moment her mouth wouldn't connect with her brain. Grissom was offering her his shirt. HIS shirt? Oh Lord, was she dreaming? She had to be dreaming. Blinking a few times in disbelief, she was certain she would wake and be propelled back into reality at any moment, but he was still there, staring at her with that heart melting smile of his and offering her the item of clothing.

Finding her voice, Sara started to move forward. "Are you sure?" she asked uncertainty, "I mean it's your shirt…"

"I said you could borrow it," he smirked, finding her embarrassment utterly adorable. "I want it back when you've finished with it though."

"Yeah," she beamed, taking the shirt from his hands to caress the material between her fingers. "Sure."

"Okay, go and change and meet me in my office. We have got work to do around here," he watched her with an amused glint in his eyes and offered her a sly wink. Backing out of the room, he left her to look on after him in utter astonishment.  Sara stared after the open space that he had just vacated and found herself wondering what on earth was going on with him tonight. Shrugging her shoulders, she looked down at the soft fabric in her hands and realized that she was going to wear his shirt tonight. His shirt that he had worm dozens of times was going to be against her own skin. Smiling to herself, she walked towards the washroom, her prized piece of Grissom in her hands.

*-*-*-*

They were six miles from the suicide scene, stopped at a red light, when it happened.  They heard it more than they felt it—another car bumping into the back of Grissom's Tahoe.  

"What the?"  Grissom put the car in park, and turned around.  "Did we just get rear ended?"

Sara rolled her eyes and shook her head.  "And so it begins…"

"Oh don't start.  This hardly qualifies as bad luck.  Nobody was hurt.  We didn't even feel it!"

He stepped out of the car and talked with the other driver for a few minutes, exchanging necessary information.  When he got back in the car, Sara stared at him expectantly.

"What?  Nice lady.  Very apologetic.  Wasn't paying attention."

"How's the car?"

He grumbled a little as he began driving again.  "Her insurance will pay for it."  He glanced at her seriously a second.  "You really need to get over this paranoia.  It's very unscientific of you."  He playfully nudged her shoulder with his hand, surprising her.

Sara sighed as they continued on to the residence, a nervous excitement filling the pit of her stomach.  She tried so hard to shake the feeling, to relax and let herself feel secure with Grissom working beside her, but she couldn't do it.  Instead of feeling more secure, she found herself even more concerned for his safety.  She glanced at him, and he turned and met her eyes with an uncharacteristically kind smile.  

Grissom was certainly being tolerant with her.  She knew it was just a matter of time before his patience gave out, and he started to get angry with her.  She decided to keep her mouth shut about her nerves and just concentrate on work.  Hopefully it would be a simple suicide, no suspicious circumstances.  An easy case would be nice for tonight.

The victim was lying on the couch in the living room, with her right wrist slit and draped down toward the floor.  A small pool of blood had soaked into the carpet in front of the couch.  Sara's eyes roamed over the room anxiously as she entered the scene. Grissom noticed her uneasiness, and quietly asked the officer to stay in the room with Sara while he searched the rest of the house.

Sara was stunned by his subtle compassion, considering her reasoning for being uncomfortable.  She promptly went to work photographing the body.  It wasn't long before she suspected they were not dealing with a legitimate suicide.  The knife was lying on the floor next to the blood, instead of near the woman's other hand.  The blood pool did not seem large enough for a bleed out, and the position of the body looked staged.  It was then that she noticed the bugs in the woman's wound.  Three of them.  They looked like tiny maggots, but she didn't dare speculate with an expert in the house.  

She headed into the dining room, looking for Grissom.  "Where's my wandering entomologist?" she asked, looking across into the empty den.  

"What did you just say?" he asked, popping his head out of the kitchen behind her and startling her a moment.  She glared at him for scaring her.

"Come with me," she ordered.  Bobbing her head in the direction of the living room she added, "This oughtta be right up your alley."

Looking closely at the body without touching it, Grissom said, "Hm.  She's been dead at least a day.  We'll know more after David gets here.  What else have you got?"  He glanced at the floor.

"Look at this blood pool.  There's no way she lost enough blood from this wound to die from it," Sara explained.

"Maybe she didn't kill--"

Loud music suddenly filled the room.  They both looked at each other in surprise before focusing their eyes on the large stereo system in the corner.  

"Did you do that?" Grissom asked.

"How?  I was standing right here with you."

Bobby Darin's Mack the Knife was coming from the speakers.  The officer leaned in from the entryway to see what the commotion was.  "Did you do that?" Sara asked.

"No Ma'am."

Grissom and Sara made their way over to the stereo; staring at it a moment while the CD continued to play.  "We must have triggered some remote sensor or something," Grissom rationalized.  "Or maybe it was programmed to come on at--" He looked at his watch.  "8:17pm."  

"Odd time," Sara noted nervously.  

"True."  Grissom moved closer to the stereo, looking behind it as best he could with his flashlight.  

"Don't you think that's ironic?" Sara asked, moving closer to Grissom.

"What?"

"The song.  Mack the Knife?"  She turned around and glanced at the body.

Grissom listened to a few bars of the song before looking back at Sara.  "You think whoever killed her has a sense of humor?"

Grissom reached out a gloved hand to turn off the stereo.  Before he touched it, Sara's hand gripped his.  "Don't!"

"What?"

"Don't touch it."

"Why?"  He brought his hand down, but noticed immediately that Sara did not release him.

"Just don't.  Please?"

"Sara, it's a stereo," he chided.

"Why can't you just humor me?" she shouted.  Her grip on his hand tightened, causing him to look at her.  There were tears in her eyes.  She was really losing it.  

He tugged her closer to him, and though there was no reason to whisper around the officer, he felt compelled to.  "Fine.  I'll unplug it, and we'll bring it back to the lab as evidence."  He let go of her hand, pointing his finger in her face while glaring at her.  "You are getting counseling for this.  I have never seen you act so crazy in my life!  Get it together.  Now." 

Sara watched him unplug the device, blinking back tears and trying to compose herself.  God, why couldn't he just let her have the night off?  They processed the rest of the scene in silence, with Grissom mildly irritated and Sara completely humiliated.  They discovered more evidence that the woman did not commit suicide; further indicating they were dealing with a murder.  They left the scene and returned to the lab, only to go their separate ways.  

Grissom chose to stay at the lab while Sara went to see Doc Robbins about the victim.  Several hours later, Sara found Grissom in one of the labs talking to Archie.  She had calmed down significantly, considering it was now 6:40am, November 1st.  Sara needed to tell Grissom about the autopsy results.  The woman had overdosed on barbiturates, yet had no prescription for them.  The wrist slit was little more than a flesh wound.  Taking a deep breath in the hallway, she decided to try a quick apology before telling him about the results.  Before she was ready to talk to him, Grissom bounded into the hallway, practically knocking her down.  He gripped her elbows to steady her.  

"Hey, I was just looking for you."

"You found me," she said for the second time that evening.  "Can I talk to you a minute?" she asked.

Assuming she was going to tell him what she found at the autopsy, Grissom relented.  He would drop his bomb on her when she finished.  "What did you find out?"

"Oh, I'll get to that in a minute," Sara began, walking next to him down the corridor.  "I just wanted to…apologize for the way I acted earlier."

"Sara,"

"No, Grissom, you were right.  I was totally out of control.  I just couldn't seem to help it."

"Sara,"

"I mean, seriously.  A stereo?"  She let out a nervous laugh as they rounded the corner towards his office.

"Sara!"

"What?" 

He gently pushed her into his office, closing the door behind her.  

"Sit down," he commanded quietly.

After she was seated, he sat down across from her, shaking his head a moment.  For once, he was actually unsure how to proceed.  Sara's face wrinkled slightly, wondering what was going on.

"Sara, I've known you for a long time.  You're an outstanding scientist and a top notch CSI."  

Sara swallowed and blinked a few times.  Good Lord, was he firing her?  

"It's rare that you ever insist on following your instincts at a crime scene—so when you do, regardless of the logic behind it, I should pay attention."

"Huh?"  Sara's face wrinkled even more.

"I owe you an apology."

"Why?"

He stared at her a moment, taking in her features before explaining.  "I had Archie take apart that stereo from the living room."

"You did?" she asked, her curiosity officially piqued.

"The power button and volume dial were rigged to a rudimentary bomb stuffed in the back of the unit."  

Sara's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.  "Are you kidding me?"

Grissom continued explaining.  "Jacqui and I printed the inside pieces.  We got a match to the woman's business partner.  Brass is bringing him in today.  We can question him later this afternoon.  I'm sure if we go back to the house we can find the sensor we tripped."

It looked like Sara had stopped listening.  She was staring blankly at his desk, in an absolute daze.     

Grissom leaned forward to try and make eye contact with her.  "Guess he thought if the evidence was blown up, we wouldn't be able to catch him."

"I beat it," Sara said softly, finally looking up at him.

Grissom looked at her quizzically.

"I beat it.  Don't you see?"  Her face was suddenly animated and lively.  "I was at a crime scene on Halloween where there was a bomb.  A bomb that could have gone off.  A bomb you almost set off—but I stopped you."  She paused a moment, reliving the moment in her mind.  "I stopped you," she said again proudly.  "We'd have been blown to smithereens."  She was smiling from ear to ear.  "But we weren't.  Do you know what this means?"

Her smile was contagious.  "You saved my life?"

"I had a lucky Halloween."

"I had a lucky Halloween," Grissom corrected.  

Sara seemed to be back to her flirtatious self.  "Yes, you did."  Maybe it was the company this time around.  She glanced down at her chest a moment.  Maybe his shirt was good luck.  She shook her head for being so ridiculous.  She really didn't care what it was.  It was over, and she felt like celebrating.  She looked up, and wondered briefly if this thing between them would ever be resolved.    

Reluctant to have the conversation end, Grissom asked abruptly, "So, what do I owe you?"

"Owe me?"

With a relaxed shrug he continued, "If I had turned off that stereo, I'd be in the hospital right now, or worse.  Your Halloween paranoia came in…handy.  Surely I should buy you breakfast or something."    His eyes held a playful gleam that she hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Breakfast?" she teased, as if the concept was foreign to her.

His mouth wriggled a moment as he narrowed his eyes at her.  Was she fishing for more?  Was he completely off the hook for being an ass to her?

"It's too early for dinner, isn't it?" he asked, his double meaning clear to her.  Was his hesitation for her benefit or for his?

Sara took a moment to catch up.  "Or too late," she added with a smile, unable to resist toying with him.  She shrugged lightheartedly and stood in front of him.  "What time?"

Sara opened her closet to stare inside. Grissom was coming to pick her up for dinner and she should have been overjoyed, but, to be truthful, she was scared out of her mind.

Thinking back to earlier this morning, she smiled to herself when she remembered the feel of his soft shirt against her skin. Maybe he did bring her luck this year after all. Reaching her hand inside the closet, she pulled out a low cut deep burgundy sweater and her favorite black pants. Not heart stoppingly attractive she knew, but as they were going straight onto the lab she had to think of practicality. Besides, it wasn't a date; it was just a thank you between friends, that's all. So why was she so nervous?

Giving herself a mental shake, she disappeared into her bathroom and started to run the shower. No reason for her not to look good was there? Maybe seeing Grissom a little flustered would be good for her bruised ego! With a smile forming on her lips, she disappeared into the shower, intent on giving Grissom a brief glimpse into the real Sara Sidle.

Grissom stood outside Sara's door nervously. For the tenth time in less than five minutes he had to question himself as to why he was doing this again? Lifting his hand up to her door, he rapped on the hard wood twice and stood back to wait for her. This was not a date, this was a….

When the door opened and she stood before him looking absolutely stunning, he suddenly lost all conscious thought. "Sara…" he gasped, "you look…you…"

"Thanks," she grinned, delighted with his sudden speech impediment. "Uh, do you want to come in for a minute?"

"Sure," he squeaked. 

Stepping aside for him to enter, she congratulated herself for her inner control and her ability to keep the shaking from her body. "Would you like a drink or something?" she asked nervously, hoping that the small shudder in her voice hadn't given away how scared she actually was.

"No," he said softly as he turned around to face her, "thank you."

"I…um…I'll just get my jacket then," she nodded, berating herself silently for her sudden incapability to form coherent sentences. This wasn't a date. He had no romantic interest in her, so why was she so afraid?

"Sara," he choked, swallowing the lump that had caught inside his throat. "I'd like to talk to you."

"Oh," she said numbly, knowing that this was the speech that came with the obvious rejection. Taking a deep breath, she needed to bring this farce to an end, and she needed to do it before he said the words she dreaded. "Look it's okay Grissom," she nodded, plastering a false smile to her face. "You don't have to take me out anywhere, I know this makes you uncomfortable and if you would sooner forget about it then I understand." There she'd said it. Shouldn't she be feeling relieved about now?

Grissom's mouth dropped open with her words. He had been wrestling with his feelings for her for so long that he hadn't thought about what all of his uncertainty was doing to her. Here she was before him looking every bit as stunning as the first day he had met her all those years ago. She had taken his breath away that day and had succeeded in causing his heart to ache for her so many times since. Stepping closer, he gathered every ounce of courage he could muster and reached out a tentative hand to touch her shoulder.

Sara's head snapped up to come in direct contact with his eyes. What was he doing? This wasn't part of his rejection. Was this a new set of rules to his game? Her first instinct was to step away but she found herself caught in the snare of his eyes.

"Sara…" he whispered, his voice an intoxicating hum as he gazed into the depths of her eyes. "Am I too late?"

Her mind screamed at her to make some kind of response, but she seemed to have lost all power to speak. Swallowing hard she thought about what he had just asked her and once again found her whole body on high alert. How could she tell him that her ultimatum had been another empty threat and that she could never leave him, even though she knew she should? Closing her eyes briefly, she opened them again to gaze into his, this time offering him a tiny smile. "Not if you don't want to be," she whispered.

"I don't want to be," he told her quietly, his voice breaking into a trembling whisper as he closed the short distance between them to place a soft kiss on the corner of her lips.

They remained in the same position for what seemed like an eternity just drawing on the strength of their feelings for each other. Unable to take the strain on her heart any longer, Sara slid her hands up his chest to link her fingers behind his neck. She felt him shudder against her, and suddenly found every ounce of fear leave her body. Moving her face slightly she met his lips with a soft touch of her own, igniting the simmering spark between them into a full burst of heated flame.

The invisible wall crashed down as their mouths collided in a kiss bordering on desperation as they both sought to leave the years of frustration behind them.

Pulling back suddenly, Sara stared into his eyes with utter shock. Grissom's eyes registered the same smoldering desire as she had in her own and for the first time since she had known this man, she finally understood what it was like to be a part of him. 

"God Sara," he whispered softly, his heavenly voice breaking through the final barrier that she kept around her heart. Leaning towards her again, he collected another kiss from her lips, this time taking his time to savor her.

Sara was lost, completely lost. The swell of her undying love for him washed over her body as she sank into his arms, returning his kiss with the same amount of adoration that he poured into hers.

When their need for breath became all too urgent, they pulled apart slowly, their lips still joined with tiny lingering kisses. Breaking his lips from hers, Grissom stepped closer to wrap his arms around her body, pulling her to him in a desperate embrace. For the first time he knew what it felt like to be cherished, and she had been cherishing him for years, he knew that now. He had been too blind to see it. For the first time in many, many years his mind was clear.

Drawing away from her, he lifted his head so he could gaze down into the sanctuary of her eyes. Lifting a hand he traced his fingers over her face lovingly and when her eyes fluttered closed in compete abandonment, he thought his heart might just burst with all these newly discovered feelings. Smiling down at her again, he leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering over her skin.

"You know," Sara chuckled softly, her giggle enticing a smile to Grissom's lips. "I've always dreaded Halloween, but now…"

Pulling back, he looked down at her lovingly, his hands cradling her face. "Now?"

"Now," she smiled, "I have you to chase all my bad luck away."

Smiling, Grissom moved his arms around her to pull her body back into his warm embrace again. "I'm your good luck charm now?" he chuckled as he squeezed her tightly against him.

"You're so much more," she whispered against his ear, her voice heavy with emotion. "You're everything."

Her words once more pierced his heart, drawing out more of the love he felt for her and he responded to her instantly. "I've been a fool."

"No more than I have," she whispered, "Maybe it's time we both stopped playing games and woke up to what's really going on between us."

"I want to see what happens," he smiled against her hair, placing a soft kiss on her silky strands as he repeated her words from not so long ago.

"Me too," she grinned happily. Pulling back she smiled up into his eyes and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. "How about we start this whole new life now?"

"Hmm," he smiled, "sounds interesting."

"Feed me first and we'll see what happens?" she told him, flashing him a seductive smile. 

"Oh I think I can do that," he chuckled, his hand caressing the small of her back. "Shall we?"

Sara's face erupted into one huge smile. Maneuvering them towards the door, they stepped outside and she turned to lock the door behind them. Taking his offered arm, she leaned into his body as they walked away. Halloween would never be quite the same again….

END


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